Differtus
by Zaedah
Summary: Cobwebs aren't known for their erotic properties.


_Because the beloved Kew121 requested something a bit more tangible, I present the following bit of Tiva naughtiness. May this offering tide readers over until I quit mud-wrestling with the next chapter of Symbiosis (by all accounts, it's winning)._

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**Differtus**

Later he'll consider it the most uncomfortable bliss he's ever known.

Presently he's considering how anything that sexy could manage to be too close to enjoy. There's an overabundance of contact without the actual ability to touch. Mostly because the designers of the room she's dragged him into hadn't possessed the forethought to provide adequate square footage for hasty activity. In truth, they could have waited until they'd arrived at a more spacious location but her hurry is contagious. Unfortunately his arms can't fold in the manner that this crushing proximity requires and he's not one to be turned on by the hands off approach. Plus, cobwebs aren't known for their erotic properties. Still, Tony thinks perhaps he's asking too much.

This being a closet and all.

Ziva is a determined woman, a trait he admires right up to the point that it inflicts bodily harm. Having been shoved into a tight space composed completely of corners, Tony registers a wooden shelf that impacts his skull every time he moves. Thus the pros are quickly weighed against the rather bruising cons. Apparently his personal safety is a priority that he alone is prepared to indulge. The baffling quantity of sawdust under his shoes should provide traction but fails and the utility room is choked by scrubbing and mopping implements which lean against the walls as steadily as toothpicks in an earthquake. But of more immediate concern is the filing box perched perilously above Tony's head and with every piece of clothing being displaced, it shifts toward a regrettable obedience to gravity.

But it's hard to worry about the contents falling down when she's going down.

Because this is a crypt where old cleaning bottles go to die, there isn't enough room for Ziva to sink to her knees. But thanks to a florescent glow inching between the door and the floor, Tony can follow the outline of her body as she performs a creative bend at a dubious angle to reach him. It's been surmised that the creature of man has a switch that shuts off sensible thought in favor of blind instinct and in this cramped cavern, his switch is not only located but manhandled into a skyward direction. And he's nearly at the point where claustrophobia has lost its bite when the shelved box tumbles. It launches itself corner-first into his cranium and Ziva's mouth leaves the evidence of his exhilaration long enough to gasp. The rain of sharp-edged paper poses a significant threat to exposed areas but her hand has formed a protective sheath around him and this keeps him at aching attention. He's blessed and cursed all at once.

Maybe they should have started with an animal sacrifice.

But deterring Ziva is like loading a moose into a stapler. Someone's bound to have heard the disruption and while the prospect of discovery shrinks him just a bit, it apparently thrills her. The closet, borrowing its light source from the increasingly hectic hallway, highlights her sinister smile, the victorious sneer of a tiger who's realized that her prey has been rendered immobile with the conflicting twist of fear and want. As a dedicated smoker with one last cigarette, she takes a deep drag from him and it feels so damned good, even when he drives his elbow through the plaster. Her manipulations ratchet into passing speed and the next risky noise rips from the lining of his throat.

The venue no longer matters.

She's made herself ready by getting him ready, being a female who responds to the male's appreciation of her talents. But stealthily securing this tiny shred of real estate along a busy corridor at midday without attracting notice proves to be the simple part. Inserting tab A into slot B becomes a tricky bit of assembly in the absence of maneuverable space. But God bless her flexibility. He's the wall she's scaling and Tony's arms brace around her body to prevent an avalanche of flesh. Her legs grip his waist and the rest is the sort of routine that never grows tiresome. The plug slides into the socket and sparks flash behind his eyes. Once connection is achieved, detection becomes a small matter that lacks influence on their vocal ranges.

The population of the building must be stoned to miss it.

Since it's standing room only, Ziva has recruited the now boxless shelf in her efforts to gain leverage. The dust stirred by her fingers descend like snowflakes, drifting into his hair and her eyes. This is not the time to fret over spoiled appearances but a sneeze might destroy the mood. Except that she's already clenching around him to the audible detriment of their secrecy but hushing her would require breath he can't seem to find. They've evaporated any usable oxygen. Behind the obstacle created by his need to savor, the flood builds up and then pushes through the cracks until the barrier is swept away by the deluge. And he's not quiet about it either. It'll be whole seconds before he bothers to dislodge his teeth from her shoulder and entire minutes until she can put trust in the stability of her legs.

He should be petrified.

There's exactly zero room to navigate the redressing they'll need in order to step out of this closet without looking oversexed or homeless. Her silken shirt is snagged on her belt and the practical white bra forms a constricting loop around her waist. His tie is being trampled underfoot and he'd like to think that no one will notice the open space on his dress shirt, her haste having expelled a button or two. But the close quarters means the scent of their adventure has overtaken the dusty odor, stamping the site as momentarily theirs. Should someone kick down the flimsy door which, in truth, he can't recall either of them locking, they will find a pair of breathless people wrapped in disheveled clothes and smug satisfaction.

And some people waste coffee breaks on _coffee_?

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**differtus :**_ To be crammed. (Latin)_


End file.
